Summary: What if the ghost of Bart Bass saves Chuck from committing suicide instead of Blair and Jack? Chuck sees how those he cared about would be affected if he had succeeded in his suicide attempt. Starts during 2.14. Loosely based off of the film "It's A Wonderful Life"

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, etc.

Scarlet on White

"You most certainly have the Bass stubbornness." He remarked dryly. "Now, close your eyes and don't open them until I say."

Chuck closed his eyes and felt the ice-cold arm of Bart Bass wrap around his shoulders. The wind fell still and Chuck felt a crushing pressure on his chest, as if he were having an asthma attack. Seconds later, the pressure was gone and, with eyes squeezed shut, Chuck collapsed to his knees, taking in desperate gulps of wintry air.

"Easy, son," Bart lifted Chuck to his feet. "There is no need for air in our realm. You're as much a ghost as I am right now."

Chuck stopped struggling to breathe and became unnaturally still upon noticing his sudden absence of heartbeat. Chuck held his head in his hands as said wearily, "My heart. It stopped. I thought you said I was alive, father."

"You are, Charles, but you must temporarily become as I've become in order to travel in the ghost world. Here, you need neither your lungs nor your heart," Bart replied, before adding with a fleeting smirk, "Not that I had much of a heart to begin with. Now, open your eyes and come with me."

Opening his eyes slowly, Chuck saw that they were no longer on the rooftop. They were still in the hotel, but now they were in the the main room of the party which Chuck had previously left. For some reason, this change of location didn't even surprise him (Once you've met your father's ghost, you've done it all, Chuck noted). The room looked exactly has he remembered; half-empty glasses of champagne were scattered everywhere and appetizer trays lay full of uneaten food on ornately decorated tables. The only difference was that this room was completely bereft of human presence. Bart hardly gave Chuck time to observe the room before ushering the young Bass towards the door. "Follow me," Bart ordered.

"Where are we going?" Chuck asked in frustration. "I don't have time for this nonsense. If I'm alive, let me be so I can get on with my life."

No reply from the elder Bass.

"Really, father, this isn't necessary. I know how this is going to end. You're going to try to guilt trip me until I reach some sort of stereotypical epiphany. I've seen 'A Christmas Carol', you know!" Chuck growled in annoyance.

Bart stopped suddenly in his tracks and turned around to face Chuck. "Charles, stop it. You aren't God. You aren't omniscient. Truthfully, you aren't anything in the real scope of things," Bart snapped with a scowl before softening his tone. "You are, however, something to the people you pushed away, and I'll show you that if you would cooperate a little better. Just keep quiet and follow me."

Chuck jammed his hands in his pockets, narrowing his eyes defiantly. He looked around and noticed how empty the hotel halls were, how silent his world seemed. That was until the father and son walked through the building's glass doors. Ambulance and police sirens wailed in the night, flashing brightly as they made their way through the New York traffic. Chuck looked around in confusion until Bart nudged his shoulder gently and nodded his head at a crowd of people surrounding the pavement.

"What is all this?" Chuck asked Bart quizzically.

Bart shrugged. "Go see for yourself, Charles."

As he made his way toward the crowd, Chuck could hear crying. He immediately spotted flaxen waves he knew belonged to Jenny Humphrey, who was standing next to Eric van der Woodsen. Quickening his pace, he walked up to Eric. "Why'd the party move, little brother?" he inquired, standing on his toes trying to see what was happening. Eric said nothing and stood stoically as heart-wrenching wails continued to pierce the night. Chuck punched Eric on the arm, only to see that his fist went right through the young boy's heavy tweed jacket. "Come on, man! What the hell is going on?" Chuck didn't like being ignored, yet Eric remained quiet.

"He can't hear you."

Chuck turned around at the sound of his father's voice. "What? Why?"

Bart crossed his arms. "You're in the ghost realm, son. The living can't hear you. They don't even know you're here."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "How wonderful. Let me guess, I can walk through walls, too?"

"Actually, you can walk through anything," Bart said with a flicker of a smile.

"Anything?" Chuck asked in disbelief. It was getting harder and harder to be skeptical in this strange new world.

"Yes, Charles. Try it. It's rather entertaining, I must admit," Bart smirked

Chuck turned and stepped hesitantly towards Eric. The elder Bass nodded at Chuck encouragingly as his son waved a hand through Eric's back. It was as if Eric wasn't even there; all Chuck could feel was air. Uneasily, he closed his eyes and walked right through Eric. Chuck opened his eyes and saw that he had successfully walked through his brother without conflict – Who else could say that? He thought with amusement – and then made his way through the rest of the crowd. He could still hear those soul-crushing sobs; they were becoming mixed with the sounds of radio dispatchers and emergency medical technicians and police officers. Breaking through the crowd at last, Chuck saw a tiny brunette being dragged away from a crumpled heap on the ground.

Chuck neared the pile on the ground and found himself staring at his own destroyed body, dead on the pavement. Thick, scarlet-colored blood covered the ground and intermingled with freshly-fallen snowflakes. Frozen to the spot, Chuck's eyes widened in horror as he observed himself; he was unable to spot where one injury ended another began. Slowly, Chuck began to back away, mouth agape as EMTs took over the surrounding area. In the distance he still heard those wails, and immediately he realized to whom they belonged.

Blair.

Chuck weaved through the crowd quickly, his eyes scanning the group for Blair. His eyes were inexplicably drawn downward and suddenly, he spotted Serena, whose golden hair stood out against the darkness; he followed the beacon of light like the North Star. Serena was sitting on the cold ground, eyes glistening with tears and arms wrapped around a trembling Blair. God, those cries. Chuck crouched down and moved his hand to tip Blair's chin upwards. As predicted, his hand went right through her. Chuck dropped his hand, clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Oh God, Serena!" Blair sobbed. "How am I going to do this without him? I-I need him so badly, S!" She cried even harder.

Serena tightened her embrace. "It'll be okay, B," Serena choked generically, her own grief preventing her from properly comforting her best friend.

"No it won't!" Blair screamed, heavy sobs wracking her body. "Nothing will ever be okay again!"

A tear threatened to betray Chuck upon seeing Blair's distress but he forced it back. "Waldorf!" he yelled, snapping his fingers in front of her. "I'm not dead! See? I'm right in front of you!" His voice fell to a whisper. "You have nothing to cry about, Blair – please don't cry. Please," he begged.

Suddenly, a strange male voice entered the conversation. Chuck lifted his eyes to see his uncle standing above Blair and Serena. Jack's expression was sympathetic as he too crouched down. "Blair," he said with a stony voice. "I know tonight has been rough for you. I don't pretend to hide my sadness either, but here is not the place to grieve. Come, both of you. There's a limo waiting to take you girls home."

"No! I can't leave him!" Blair wept, falling into Serena's lap again. Serena instinctively began stroking the brunette's head.

"As you see, Ms. Waldorf, the paramedics are leaving. There's nothing you can do at this point," Jack replied with an even tone. "I need to follow the ambulance, and you need to go home and grieve in private. I'm sure Serena wasn't planning on leaving your side this evening, right, Serena?"

The blonde quickly cleared her throat. "Of course not, B. We need to be there for each other right now."

"No! I'm going with them!" Blair protested stubbornly. "He can't be alone and I won't abandon him!"

Jack's expression grew soft as he gently placed a hand on the small of Blair's back. "Listen to me, Blair. Chuck is gone. I assure you he did not survive the fall. It's physically impossible, sweetheart. The paramedics are taking him to the hospital as a precautionary measure, but by all means and purposes, he is dead. And with all due respect, Ms. Waldorf, Chuck abandoned you, not the other way around."

Chuck was furious. How could Jack put the idea into Blair's head that somehow Chuck was to blame for her own sorrow? She was never Chuck's to abandon! Feeling particularly vengeful, Chuck leaned in so that he was inches away from Blair's face before whispering through gritted teeth, "Don't you dare think I left you behind. I never owed you anything, least of all my life. You fell in love with me, not the other way around. Whose fault is that? Huh? You couldn't wait to be Mrs. Bass. Well guess what? That's too bad." He knew she couldn't hear him, but Chuck felt good as he released his anger.

Blair looked up and met Chuck's gaze abruptly and suddenly, Chuck's stomach dropped. Uh-oh. Serena touched Blair's arm in alarm. "What is it, B?"

"I - I don't know. I just thought I felt something, that's all," Blair said sadly. Chuck sighed, relieved his tirade went unheard. He felt a twinge of guilt for what he had said, but Chuck couldn't find the energy to care. Instead, he took the opportunity to study Blair. Her deep chocolate curls were loose and wet from the snowflakes melting on her hair, and while her skin was as porcelain as ever, though the tip of her nose was rosy red from the cold and the crying. In this instance, Chuck thought she looked nearly perfect, like an angel atop a Christmas tree. The only thing that was off about Blair was her eyes. They were lonely, dark, sad. Like mine, he thought.

As much as it pained Chuck to see Blair as upset as she was, he couldn't help but to feel relief wash over him knowing that Jack was there to make sure she didn't do anything stupid in his absence. She was certainly in no state to be left to her own devices tonight. Serena and Jack helped a grief-stricken Blair to her feet. Afraid she might collapse, Blair gripped Serena's hand tightly while Jack put his arm around her, steadying the brunette. After helping the two girls into an idling limo, Jack turned on his heels and disappeared into a dissipating crowd.

Bart appeared beside Chuck and looked at his son sympathetically. "See that, son? People care. Ms. Waldorf certainly does."

Chuck pushed down a lump in his throat. He still wanted to cry but that wasn't about to happen, especially not in front of Bart Bass. He rolled his eyes. "She'll get over me, father. She always does. I'm sure Prince Nathaniel will sweep her off of her feet in two weeks time."

"Charles, you should give people a little more credit," Bart replied, exasperated. "Did you or did you not see the way she cried over you? You may not have a heartbeat but you certainly still have your vision."

"Well obviously I saw her, father. The thing is, I don't care. She's overly-emotional as it is," Chuck said hoarsely with a smirk."This whole little experiment of yours has taught me nothing except that I should have stayed in Thailand and offed myself there. No one would have known and I wouldn't have been exposed to this idiotic vacation in purgatory."

Bart sighed. This was definitely not a vacation.

A/N Thank you so much for the reviews, everyone! I'm super happy you guys are liking it so far =D